Transferred Feelings
by made.for.life
Summary: Jemma is back but everything feels wrong to Fitz. Mostly because all the feelings are somewhere else, with someone else.


Fitz's mind reeled in confusion. He knew. He just knew that this wasn't the Simmons he had created in his mind. She was dressed differently and her hair was different. She was real. Solid. Completely and utterly separated from the fantasy of his mind.

"Simmons." He said airily.

"Hello Fitz." She smiled uncertainly. "How are you?"

"I-i-I'm," He swallowed. "I'm good."

His mind raced yelling phrases at him. He couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. Confusion reared and bucked in his mind throwing every word he knew away. He couldn't find any of them. He didn't know what to say and that look was starting grow on Simmons's face. That pitying, fearful look that people gave him before they either started talking to him like a five year old or just ran away. He couldn't let that happen. Not in front of his old friend. She couldn't see him like this. He didn't feel comfortable with her anymore. He didn't want to. He couldn't handle the breaking down anymore.

"Sorry I-" He spun on his heels, not completing his response.

The scientist ducked away from his partner. He covered his face and dived deeper back into the laboratory. Thankfully his desk was cleared off because he collapsed on the top instantly. His torso flattened against the electronic table and Fitz buried his head in his arms.

"Fitz?"

The curly haired scientist looked up.

The tall black mechanic hand his arms crossed and brows furrowed. "Hey man, what's up?"

Miserable grey-blue eyes tipped up to him. Fitz opened his mouth then closed it again. Mack simply dragged the chair off to the side around and sat down.

"That's cool," He picked up the book he had been looking over, "Find the words you need."

Fitz raised his eyes just a bit to peek at him. This was a pretty typical place for both of them, Fitz at the table and Mack in his claimed chair. Whenever the scientist had a project he was working on he'd space out for hours on end sometimes and talk to himself, to the project, and more frequently to Mack. The big man had taken up residency on the far left of his table which he rarely used anyways, it was Simmons' side of the table. The image of Simmons had been appearing less and less, instead of chatting with her he bounced ideas off Mack. He was an extraordinarily intelligent person and good with supplying the words Fitz needed.

Mack looked up, feeling his gaze. "You alright Turbo?"

"Simmons is back." He barely breathed.

"Yeah." Mack grinned at first then dropped his smile with confusion. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"No." Fitz said adamantly. "Because it… We're not… It's not..." He clenched his hands in frustration.

"It's not the same?" The mechanic supplied.

He shook his head search for the words. "It's not her. It's me. I used to. But now I don't."

Mack set the book desperately trying to follow the conversation. "You don't? You don't what? Love her?"

"Yes!" Fitz declared with relief.

His relief turned to absolute horror at what he had discovered and Mack put into words. He groaned and twisted painfully against the table. His fingers clamped around the sides of his head trying to hold together two worlds.

"Is that a bad thing?" Mack asked.

The smaller gaped.

The black man laced his fingers around one of his knees. "I mean, she left you. Now that she's back she probably doesn't feel the same either. You two could be friends without being in love. Even if you're just acquaintances it'll be better than this one-sided mumbo-jumbo."

Fitz propped himself up on his elbows. The gears in his mind ground through the problem like a math equation he needed the answer for.

Mack frowned at his harsh contemplation. "Do you want me to leave?" He went to stand.

"No." Fitz murmured.

"Staying?" Mack arched an eyebrow.

The scientist nodded.

"Alright." He picked up his book.

Fitz rocked on his feet, watching Mack read. His mind buzzed unpleasantly. They just paused in their places for the longest time. Mack snorted at something in his book.

Fitz spoke after a while. "Should I go talk to her?"

The mechanic looked up. "That's up to you Turbo. Might be a good idea."

Fitz nodded. He took a deep breath and squared off his shoulders before walking away. Mack nodded as he left. As a short, stiff, awkward conversation, he returned feeling heavy hearted. He couldn't feel what he had before. Something had knocked loose in his brain and it felt wrong to love her. He knew he had. He could remember the feeling but it had transferred. It was… elsewhere.

Fitz winched as the sight of the transferred emotion still sitting in the chair by his new desk. It wasn't FitzSimmons' desk, it was the desk where he worked and where Mack lazed around when he wasn't fixing something.

"Hey man," The guy greeted, "Go well?"

Fitz put his palms against the table, looking down. He shrugged. "I wish things hadn't changed. It's so… It's so…"

"Wrong?" The black man suggested.

The curly haired man shook his head violently. He bounced on his heel scrunching up his face. His hand fluttered out spastically to tap Mack rapidly on the leg.

"Weird? Odd?" He supplied drawing on rather lacking English skills far made up for by his science and maths. "Strange?"

Fitz grips his head frantically. "Other side. Other side." He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Other side?" An extremely confused look crosses Mack's face. "The… The opposite? Happy? Good?"

"Good!" Fitz cried in relief. "No… Right! Right! It's right. There's no wrong feeling. It is right and that feeling is wrong." He turned his wide blue eyes on Mack hoping he understood.

The big man nodded. "I gotcha."

The reality of his words hit Fitz and he slumped a bit. He hated this sometimes. In his desperate search for words the gravity of them left just for a moment during the search.

Mack sighed with him. "Listen Turbo. Things change between people. It's part of life. You can still be friends."

Fitz nodded allowing his mood to resign to melancholy. When a hand curved over his shoulder he thought nothing of reaching up to cover it with his own. He even leaned his head into the touch. The scientist's head suddenly jerked up as he realized that the hand was not only solid but three times as large as normal. His eyes shot to its owner.

Mack went rigid at the sudden terror in the smaller agent's expression. Fitz flinched away and turned. His feet pounded the ground in an awkward run. He escaped the lab, running to hell.

Mack just gaped before straightening out. "Turbo? Fitz?" He yelled uselessly after them.

"Mister Mackenzie? Could we have your assistance?" Some random lab person asked.

"No." He growled stamping away after making his decision.

Fitz had literally gone to the one place he called hell in this world. He threw himself into the chair huffing and crying frantically. The wall that was normally grey and solid looking was very much clear.

"Fitz!" The man on the other side cried in alarm. "Oh my god, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"L-l-like you w-w-w-would care." Fitz cried out.

He panted and tore at his face. Everything hurt so much. His head absolutely throbbed.

"Easy Fitz. Easy." Ward put his hands up as concern laced every fiber of his body. "Breathe. Just breathe." He kept chanting over and over again until the scientist had swallowed the last of his hiccupping tears. "There you go. Are you hurt?"

"N-not physically." Fitz sniffed.

Guilt streaked Ward. "I'm so sorry Fitz. I can't stress it enough or say it too often."

"It's not you."

"Not me? It isn't your injury?" The dark eyes man frowned. "Something different? Something new. Someone back?"

Fitz shook his head.

"Some_one_ new?" Ward tilted his head.

Fitz's head barely moved but Ward could read movements well. He slowly approached the visibly non-existent wall until he felt it near his hands. The man squatted down trying to catch Fitz's downward cast eyes.

"Someone you like?" He prodded softening his voice.

Fitz snarled. "Don't do that. He never does that."

"He." Ward noted flatly.

The scientist writhed in his chair keeping his eyes away from the convict.

"Wouldn't happen to be that Mackenzie guy would it?"

Fitz yelped and thereby did not hear the door slip open like Ward did. The captive man expertly met the startled blue eyes of the scientist without letting them flick to the vastly larger feet on the stairs behind him.

"H-how did you know?" Fitz squeaked.

Ward half-smiled. "I can hear people talk when they walk by and I like Mack. He's a good guy Fitz."

"But did you know that I… That I…" Fitz tremored with words.

"That you like him in another way?" The man asked. "Nope. But I'm glad. He'll be good for you. I'm sure."

"You're missing the- ah… uh.. the obvious…. Um… Problem!" Fitz spread his hands. "I have a dick just as much as he does."

"Yep." Ward rocked back to sit instead of squatting. "I know something else you have though; balls."

"Of course." The scientist scoffed.

"I mean courage Fitz." Ward still didn't glance at Mack who was silently stalking down the stairs. "You are so extremely brave. Look at the things you did for the world."

The curly hair man scoffed.

"No really. You've nearly gotten shot, or captured, even killed so many times. You did all the big stuff," The brown eyes caught Fitz's sincerely, "For the big picture. Now do something small for yourself."

"Small? You think going after him is small?" Fitz shook his head distressed. "How am I even supposed to let him know that I like him?"

"Well," Fitz jumped at the deep voice behind him, "You could just tell him."

Fitz jumped out of the chair, startled. "M-mack. I. I was… I just….."

The black man caught the scientist's slim, nervous shoulders. "Just what Turbo? Just decided to run away to tell the prisoner," He nodded teasingly to Ward, "Instead of your friend? Or were you just looking for the captive audience?"

"Turbo." Ward laughed.

Mack nodded wide eyed. "Have you talked to this guy? His mind rolls at seven hundred times seven miles an hour. If we could run a ship of his thoughts we could go 'round the world in seconds."

The dark haired male laughed. Fitz was just gaping. His mouth opened and closed like a kind of heart beat.

Mack met his eyes and hung his hands off the shoulders instead of holding them. "Relax Turbo… Leo. It's alright. I like you too."

Fitz swallowed hard as the information clicked into place. He hesitantly placed his hand on Mack's huge bicep. He glanced up for approval. Mack nodded, relaxed as usual.

"Hey guys." Ward finally called out, leaning coolly against the cell wall. "Just a thought, but this maybe the wrong place for this stuff. May I suggest… A bedroom perhaps?"

Mack chuckled. Fitz went very red but in his head he couldn't really find any reason to dislike the notion.

Mack tapped his shoulder lightly. "C'mon. I'll ask you the typical 'my place or yours' once we're out of this cave thing."

The black man nodded to Ward just once, not in any hatred or joy for seeing the man, just a think you. Ward nodded back.

"Hey Fitz," Ward called as they headed up the stairs, "Not that I don't like you but how about next time you go to your boyfriend there to talk?"

"I-I'll do that." Fitz said back down the way.

Ward shook his head and smiled to himself as the door slid shut.


End file.
